


30 Days of Her

by stephtron312



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:12:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephtron312/pseuds/stephtron312
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl didn't bother with keeping track of time and days but from the moment he held her in his arms again he counted it as Day One</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a little experiment I've been working on while I try to continue some of my other WIPs. Drabbles concerning canon Caryl moments starting with Season 5. Hoping to continue with the new stuff they give us (because I'm optimistic like that) and then run on my own imaginative fumes during the summer hiatus until I hit 30 entries. Hope you like them :)
> 
> And...I know, I know there's a million gorgeous and perfect fics about the Caryl hug, but here's one more! Never too many reunion feels right?
> 
> Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to Robert Kirkman, AMC and their appropriate affiliates. I own nothing, as always. Except for my soul, I think I still have dibs on that.

* * *

Day One

 

Daryl had stopped keeping track of days and time a long while ago, allowing the change of seasons and temperatures to mark that the world was still moving forward. But—when his arms wrapped around her, flooding him with her touch—he counted it as Day One.

He was caught in her. Tangled up in a desperate weave of gaping breaths and uninhibited grabbing. Her body—strong and tender—held against his in the wave of emotion that rolled off his back. If he could choke the words out that swam around his tongue he would, but nothing came but a soft whimpering that even he wasn't aware he was capable of. He missed her like the land locked sailor misses the sea.

When she pulled away from him to look at his face and their eyes flickered from each other's lips back up to fasten together, something unlocked within him. She glowed at him and if only he knew how to bottle her gaze then he would drench himself in it every morning. The blue of her eyes were healing waters to a broken man. He came tumbling down to press his face into the slick sweat of her neck.

Smoke and salt filled his nose and his throat, his own tears running a ragged race throughout him. Fingers came to cup his neck, forcing him back from the comfort of her.  _I found you_ , her quivering mouth formed only a pressed line but in the silence he could hear her—a frequency tuned for only them.

He was utterly undone and when he stepped back to watch as Rick embraced her, he knew that nothing before this mattered. And so it was Day One.


	2. Day Two

Day Two

Day Two began in the moonlight because he’d be damned if his days revolved around some fiery ball of gas billions of miles away. Its silvery glow lit her like she was made of moonbeams and stardust. Her lips thinned in concentration, and a worried line etched into her brow that had settled in when Rick pulled her aside to talk. He leaned forward to rest on the butt of his bow; a question simmering in his eyes as he gazed at her (it was the seventh time in four minutes—he had a lot of stolen glances that he fought against taking to make up for).

Even if he wanted to he couldn’t stop himself from looking at her. She pulled him like the moon pulled the tide. And he felt as big as an ocean when he was next to her—deep and bottomless with pits of darkness that he longed to discover and pull up the bits of him that laid buried for years. He wanted to hold the broken crags in his hand and show them to her, so she could see his truth and find it beautiful anyway.

She answered the question he hadn’t asked with decisive words. In a murky shadow she tried to hide away. He twitched at the pull to reach out and shake the fog off, but conceded to her instead. She was always better at pulling people back into the light, but he’d find a way to illuminate her again. He had to. He’d try.

A rustle in the leaves, disquieting and small, had him to his feet. Pivoting slightly, he guarded her as best he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's block on other stories means more drabbles for this one!! Hope you like it :)


	3. Day Three

Day Three

It was this uncouth, insistent urge that swelled like an ocean wave to be unsparing with her that prompted him. Words climbed out from the emotions that he vigilantly endured, scratching against his tongue to be set free. Words that he had spent hours rearranging, as he searched out every little ping and pang his heart felt while he was around her.

Starting over. He wanted her to be unshackled, for the chains to dissolve so she could revel in their freedom. To be liberated from all the tiny weights that had been lobbed at them over time. But she needed to participate and her eyes wouldn’t focus on him since they collected the water. A glum ambition on her part to not let any of his words sink in.

When she slammed the trunk closed it clenched around his heart. Her obstinate fixation on that damn car gnawed at his gut. She wasn’t listening.

He fixed on her, as the foggy sadness seeped off to gather in a pool at her feet. She bent low to pick up the water jugs; her arm wavering slightly under the load. It would be poetic, he thought, to carry one and lessen her burden as he could.

His entire self loosened when he made his offer, and the water jug tumbled to the ground ungracefully. Something had set him on fire as he hid behind his open palm. A heavy anchor twisted around his stomach, climbing upwards into his beating heart, seizing it as well. He was a fool.

Yet for all his failure, the most miraculous vision happened upon him. Radiant like a sunbeam that warmed his center, the lilt of her tease comforting in its bewildering way. He marked Day Three with her loveliness as he clambered after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite Caryl moment EVER, so I hope I did it even a semblance of justice. Thanks for reading :D


	4. Day Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have been amazing with your support for this little project!! I sincerely adore each and every one of you! Hope you enjoy this next drabble!

Day Four

Eyes glued to the silhouette glazed over by shafts of moon that broke through the window. More skilled hands could cast her in marble, setting her likeness in an Italian piazza and explain to an eager eyed child that this was beauty. Like a statue he couldn't touch, he was content with committing each contour to memory.

There was a shift when she crossed the room. He never felt her like this; a shattering earthquake with aftershocks of grief that trembled through him. The flimsy mattress pulled under her weight, and his heart went down to his gut. Laying there so still and sinking, he was drawn to be level with her. Sighs escaped them as he licked his lips and she churned at his side. She lost something but she didn't have to lose herself. No matter how hard she tried to steal herself away he couldn't help but see her. She was so evident to him.

Hot blood coursed through him with every aching pump of his heart. It was so loud and she was so close that he was sure she could hear it. Maybe he’d have to hold her, reminding her of their vitality and press her into his fold so she could feel every beat and breath.

His skeleton scratching earnestly at his twitching muscles, urging him to move. To try. There was a clang at the door and the chance was lost. He’d have to wait for a better day.


End file.
